The moment Harry pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks, he was enveloped by an entirely different atmosphere.
Compared to the Hog's Head's dim disorder, the liveliness here practically overflowed. The oak door creaked shut behind them, and waves of heat carrying the sweet scent of butterbeer and the toasted aroma of bread washed over them, immediately driving away the cold.
The tavern was as crowded as usual, with every wooden table packed full. The laughter and conversation of wizards, the clinking of glasses, and the crackling of logs in the fireplace wove together into a noisy yet warm tapestry of sound.
Harry's gaze swept quickly across every table—from the students gathered around the bar to the adult wizards conversing quietly in corners, not even missing the narrow tables by the windows. Yet he never spotted Hagrid's characteristically massive figure—after all, someone that enormous would be impossible to overlook if present.
Just as disappointment began to settle over him, a waving figure caught his attention. Luna was seated at a table, her arm raised high as she waved vigorously in his direction.
With her help, Harry quickly made out the other occupants at that table.
First was Sherlock, sitting beside the energetically waving Luna. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly spinning a half-full glass of butterbeer.
Gemma sat across from Sherlock, sunlight streaming through the window and falling on her chestnut hair, giving it a soft luster.
Hermione sat beside her holding her glass, a faint smile on her face.
In fact, when Harry and his two companions entered the Three Broomsticks, Sherlock and his three female friends had already been there for over an hour.
During that time, the atmosphere at their table had remained relaxed and pleasant. Hermione felt this was largely thanks to Gemma.
Whenever the conversation threatened to lag, Gemma would skillfully introduce a new topic—perhaps sharing amusing stories from the Romanian dragon reserve, or gently teasing Sherlock about his obsession with interesting cases.
When Luna occasionally asked tangential questions, Gemma always responded patiently without the slightest hint of dismissiveness.
Her presence made what should have been an awkward arrangement of one boy and three girls surprisingly harmonious.
Looking at the scene before her, a bold thought suddenly occurred to Hermione: if things could continue like this, it actually wouldn't be so bad.
Just then, Luna suddenly straightened her spine, raised her arm high, and called out clearly toward the entrance, "Over here!"
Hermione followed her gaze and saw Harry, Cho, and Ginny entering the pub.
She looked at Luna with some surprise. This girl whom others called "odd" always seemed to spot her friends first, even in such a crowded environment.
"She's a girl who values friendship deeply," a soft whisper suddenly sounded in Hermione's ear.
Hermione whipped her head around to look at Gemma beside her, only to find her still wearing that same smile, her gaze resting on the trio at the entrance as though she'd never spoken at all.
Hermione's fingers lightly gripped her skirt as questions began to form, but Harry and the others were already quickening their pace toward them. She had to shelve her curiosity for now and offer the three a polite smile.
"I can see you didn't find Hagrid," Sherlock observed, his gaze first settling on Harry's slightly slumped shoulders, then sweeping across his somewhat dejected expression before turning to Cho and Ginny.
"Has Sirius left already?" His tone was casual, as though discussing something inconsequential.
"That's right... Wait!" Harry stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in astonishment. "How did you know I was looking for Hagrid? And how did you know I just met with Sirius?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and stopped the motion of spinning his glass, looking at Harry with something like amusement. "Are you certain you want me to explain my deductions?"
"Uh, never mind then..." Harry waved his hand, his voice heavy with barely concealed fatigue.
Normally, he would've eagerly pressed for details. Even though he was accustomed to Sherlock's brilliance, hearing him break down the clues always brought fresh amazement.
But today, the disappointment of not finding Hagrid combined with the regret of Sirius's hasty departure had drained his enthusiasm. "By the time you're done, I'll just be thinking 'of course it was that simple' anyway!"
"Old boy, you're quite right about that, though you needn't be so disheartened," Sherlock said, understanding Harry's mindset immediately and laughing. "I'll bet you a Galleon."
"What?" Harry blinked, unable to follow Sherlock's train of thought.
"I mean that by next week at the latest, your dear Professor Hagrid will be back to teach our classes."
"Wh-what?" Harry repeated the question, but this time his eyes lit up instantly like ignited fiendfyre.
"Really?" Cho and Ginny asked in unison, their faces full of surprise.
"Naturally it's true." Sherlock spread his hands. "I've said more than once that in most circumstances, I don't lie—unless it's necessary."
"Uh..." Cho and Ginny exchanged glances, both seeing helplessness in the other's eyes.
That statement seemed rather slippery—who could say when it was "necessary"?
But Harry, Hermione, Gemma, and Luna's eyes all brightened. They knew Sherlock too well—once he said something like this, the matter was all but settled.
Without another word, Harry immediately grabbed a chair from nearby and set it down beside Sherlock with a thud, asking urgently, "Quick, tell me what's going on!"
Just then, the wizards at a small two-person table next to Sherlock's group departed. Seeing this, Cho and Ginny hurried over and pulled out chairs to sit down.
Though seated, their bodies unconsciously leaned toward Sherlock's direction. Both girls pricked up their ears, afraid to miss a single word.
"Old chap, you should remember what I said on the first day of term in Herbology—that you wouldn't be seeing Hagrid, right?" Sherlock looked at Harry.
"I remember," Harry nodded vigorously. "You said you'd seen Dumbledore that morning, and he told you Hagrid had encountered a small mishap, but the situation was still under his control."
His tone couldn't help but carry a note of complaint. Hagrid had been missing for nearly half a month! This was what Dumbledore called a small mishap?
He even found himself wondering: had Dumbledore gone senile? But the moment that thought emerged, he shook his head, silently reproaching himself. How could he speculate about an elder like that? The recent events must have been overwhelming him, throwing his mindset into disarray.
Just then, Sherlock's words left him completely stunned. "What I'm telling you is that on that morning, Dumbledore received many letters of protest from parents—they absolutely refused to let a half-giant teach their children. Not only that, he also received a resignation letter from Hagrid himself."
"What?!" Harry and Hermione cried out simultaneously.
Harry's hand clenched suddenly, his knuckles turning white. Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Sherlock in shock.
Cho and Ginny's mouths fell open, their faces full of disbelief.
Only Gemma raised an eyebrow slightly, as though she'd already guessed as much. Luna maintained her usual expression of vague distraction, showing no surprise whatsoever—in this regard, she was remarkably similar to Sherlock.
"He actually... how could he be so foolish?" Harry couldn't help but murmur, his voice filled with confusion and anxiety.
"If he weren't foolish, he wouldn't have gone around telling everyone he was a half-giant!" Hermione said with exasperation.
She set down her glass with slightly more force than necessary, producing a soft clink. "He actually thought of resigning! If Dumbledore had agreed, wouldn't that have given Rita Skeeter exactly what she wanted?"
"Which is why Dumbledore didn't agree," Sherlock said. Though his voice was quiet, it carried an invisible reassuring power.
"He temporarily suppressed those protest letters and told me he would resolve the matter as quickly as possible. However, both he and Hagrid needed some time to completely quell the controversy. So in the meantime, he found a competent teacher to replace Hagrid. From what we can see, he did an excellent job."
Sherlock paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone before adding, "The parents' opposition didn't escalate into a major issue. The Hogwarts students, while influenced by the article, reacted more moderately than expected. As for the substitute Professor Grubbly-Plank, she has undoubtedly performed this task outstandingly."
Hearing Sherlock praise Professor Grubbly-Plank, Harry's cheeks flushed slightly, and his eyes drifted away uncomfortably.
If Hermione had said this, he might have argued back. But facing Sherlock, he simply didn't have the confidence to glare him into changing his words. He could only bite his lip and continue questioning, "Then... why do you say we'll see Hagrid next week?"
"Because Dumbledore has found a solution."
Harry's eyes brightened at these words, and the others showed expressions of delight as well.
Sherlock smiled slightly. "When we return today, we can visit Hagrid. By then, you should understand."
"Oh, what a pity," Ginny said quietly to Cho at the neighboring table. "I won't get the chance to blast open Hagrid's hut door with a spell."
Cho couldn't help but smile. Typical Gryffindor—actually feeling regretful about something like that.
Harry had never doubted Sherlock's judgment, and at this moment, his heart held only impatience. He desperately wanted to return to school immediately and rush to Hagrid's hut, knock on that wooden door, and see whether that gentle giant who always smiled so warmly was truly all right.
In this regard, he was much like Luna—both had experienced loveless childhoods, which made them treasure their friends all the more, valuing every friendship like a precious gem. Moreover, Hagrid had been the first real friend in his life, which made him extraordinarily significant.
"Sirius had something to attend to today. After meeting with me briefly, he left in a hurry," Harry said, bringing up Sirius now that Hagrid's situation was settled, his tone carrying a note of regret.
He felt somewhat embarrassed to say he wanted to return to school right away. Everyone only got to visit Hogsmeade once a month—he couldn't dampen everyone's spirits because of his own concerns.
"Is that person... Mr. Bagman?" Ginny at the neighboring table suddenly spoke softly, her finger discreetly pointing toward a corner of the tavern.
Though her voice was quiet, it immediately drew everyone's attention. "I remember Dad said he's a department head at the Ministry, doesn't he? Shouldn't he be at the office?"
Following Ginny's gaze, everyone indeed spotted Ludo Bagman. He wore a splendid purple wizard's robe and sat in a dim corner with three short goblins seated across from him.
Bagman was leaning forward, his voice kept very low as he spoke rapidly to the goblins, his hands gesturing constantly as though explaining something.
The goblins all had their arms crossed, brows furrowed, and pointed ears slightly raised. Their eyes were full of wariness and displeasure, looking aggressive—as though they might explode at any moment.
"This is indeed rather strange," Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully. "It's the weekend, and there are no Triwizard Tournament activities. Why would he, as a judge, suddenly appear here meeting with goblins?"
Perhaps their group's stares were too direct, because Bagman and the goblins soon noticed them. The goblins merely swept them with a cold glance, showing no reaction.
But Bagman seemed to have grasped a lifeline. His eyes particularly brightened when they passed over Sherlock and Harry, and he immediately stood up from his chair.
"Wait, wait!" he said stiffly to the goblins, his tone carrying urgency, then hurriedly pushed through the crowd toward them.
That face which usually wore a smile was now plastered with extraordinarily enthusiastic cheer, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes bunching together.
"Harry! Sherlock!" He strode quickly to their table, greeting the two warmly as though they were close friends. "How are you both? I was just hoping to run into you! Everything going well?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow without responding, though his gaze toward Bagman carried scrutiny.
Harry, surprised by Bagman's familiar manner, still offered a polite response. "We're fine, thank you."
"I wonder if I could have a word with the two of you privately?" Bagman looked eagerly at Sherlock and Harry, then turned to the others. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"
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